


Because Seriously, Fuck Mondays

by arosynose



Series: every day getting closer to you [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, crack all the way across the sky, not sure if I'll continue this or not but it's been fun, rated for language, this is what my life has become
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 20:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arosynose/pseuds/arosynose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alien attacks, spilled coffees, and broken iPods and ankles are definitely on Darcy's list of Least Favorite Things.</p><p>She has yet to decide which list giant green men belong on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because Seriously, Fuck Mondays

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into Hulk/Darcy, and probably not the last. I'd like to take this further, and I have an idea of how to do so, but real life is being a pain, so we'll see.

Darcy’s never been a huge fan of Mondays. She’s never hated them, per say (well, not too many of them, anyway), but she’s always been more of a weekend person. Weekends are relaxing and fun and involve sleeping in and eating junk food with Jane while watching old movies back at their apartment. Work days are long, boring, and consist of feigning interest in her job in between coffee breaks. What they do not usually include is an alien attack in the middle of her coffee run.

One minute Darcy is scrolling through a playlist, coffee in hand, the next she’s being knocked off her feet by what feels like an earthquake, and both iPod and coffee have fallen to the ground. The iPod is no longer in one piece. This is of more importance than A) the coffee that has spilled all over her blouse, and B) the way her ankle is complaining about the fall. Ankles fix themselves, and shirts are easily replaced. iPods do not get repaired or replaced without a buttload of cash. Which she does not have.

“Mother _fucker_ ,” Darcy hisses, hoisting herself into a sitting position. Her ankle is getting louder, but she’s busy trying to fit the broken pieces of her iPod back together. It’s around this time that the aliens make their appearance.

Darcy doesn’t notice them at first, but once they start screaming and zooming by overhead in weird metal hover-scooters, they’re kind of hard to miss.

“This day is made of balls,” Darcy mutters. She’s not stupid; she knows she ought to start running, and she certainly would if her ankle hadn’t just given out on the first step. It’s screaming at her now. “Yeah, okay, you’re broken, I got it,” she snaps, ripping off her shoes to begin hopping one-footedly towards the nearest building standing. She is so buying herself an ice cream cone if she survives this. A big waffle cone, with all the toppings. _All of them._

The universe is apparently feeling like a bitch today, because it sends an alien her way just as she reaches the door of a department store.

“Oh, come on!” Darcy yells, as the alien lands in front of her. Her taser is somewhere inside her bag, and it takes her so long to find it within her black hole of a purse that she’s resigned herself to being a statistic by the time her fingers finally close around the plastic handle. The taser comes out, she nearly drops it, she bends to catch it and in doing so dodges a blast from the glowy end of the alien’s stick, and when she straightens up she knocks out the alien with several hundred kilovolts of electricity. The alien drops to the ground and does not get back up.

“This town ain’t big enough for the two of us,” she says, stepping over him. The door’s in her sights, she’s safe, she’ll just go inside and she’ll be safe—

The door is locked.

Darcy stares at the door for a while. Her ankle feels like it’s on fire, and the next-nearest building is not at all near. She leans in and bangs her head on the glass of the door, glaring in at the racks of clothing.

“May all your clothes catch on their hangers and tear. May your cash registers jam and your merch orders be misspelled and sent to the wrong outlets. And may whatever employee locked this be sacked immediately and without compensation.” Satisfied, Darcy turns and takes a deep breath, readying herself to hop to the neighboring coffee shop.

The universe is unimpressed by her resolve and sends one of those metal air-scooter things into her path. It starts shooting at her, and she falls to the ground in an attempt to dodge. Her ankle lets her know this was not a good life choice. The aliens keep firing, and her taser needs to be reloaded but the she’s left the extra cartridges at home. Survival is apparently not in the cards on this particular Monday.

“Fuck Mondays,” Darcy groans shakily. Then she realizes those would be terrible last words, and opens her mouth to blurt out something more epic and noteworthy. This is when a giant green man drops out of the sky and onto the aliens and their weird hovercraft. Everything under his big feet is flattened. Aliens included. Darcy isn’t sure whether to cry or laugh or thank the big guy who saved her or try to think of better last words before he kills her anyway. In the end, shock and her big mouth win out. “Uh, thanks.”

The big guy gives a grunt. He doesn’t look too pleased. He hasn’t looked pleased since he landed.

“So, uh, while you’re here, could you give me a lift? My ankle is sort of broken, maybe, and that coffee shop is, like, an eternity away.” She pulls her best puppy face, the one that always talks Jane into much-needed coffee breaks. “Please?”

The green giant blinks, frowns even more, and then reaches out and wraps one massive hand around her waist. In an instant she goes from autonomous young woman to a ragdoll being cradled against a wide green chest. And _shit, this guy’s pecs are_ insane.

“Great! Thanks! So just, uh, set me down over by that coffeehouse over there”—she waves in the general direction of the store—“and I’ll be swell!” Her voice may be squeakier than usual, but Darcy is pretty sure you’re allowed to be at least a little scared after getting picked up like you’re no heavier than a Barbie doll.

“ **Nnh** ,” the big guy grunts, and he takes two steps forward before jumping up. Straight up. As in, _Darcy’s-ears-are-popping, why-is-the-world-a-vertical-blur, straight. upwards._ Darcy’s scream gets whisked away by the air that’s buffeting her face. Finally, just when she thinks she might pass out, they land on the roof of a building.

“Well, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Darcy says, head spinning and trying not to think about just how _fucking high up they are_. And failing. Miserably. She scoots closer to the big guy, looping her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life. “Could we, um. Not stand so close to the edge? Just a thought,” she adds quickly, because maybe giant green guys really dig standing on the edges of buildings, and who is she to stop them?

But the green dude makes a huffing sound and steps back a few paces, and Darcy breathes a sigh of relief. She eases up on her death grip of the guy’s neck and pats one giant, rippling pectoral. “Thanks for that. Not so good with heights, here.” With some effort, she tears her eyes away from the edge of the roof and focuses on the green face above hers. He’s busy growling at the aliens flying by around them, and Darcy is struck with the thought that he might forget he was holding her and leap out into the fray with her still clinging on to him for all she’s worth.

“You can put me down now,” she blurts, and his head tips back down to face hers. The growling that’s been coming from low in his throat stops. “I’ll just wait here until everything’s calmed down. So you can just go do your thing, okay?” She works up a smile, and the green guy’s forehead creases. He looks…bewildered? _Can green giants even_ be _bewildered?_

He sets her down with all the care of someone handling fine china, and Darcy boggles at how gentle his huge hands are. 

“ **Hulk see soft pretty again** ,” he says. Darcy feels like that’s what a rock slide would sound like, if it had a voice.

“Wait, your name is Hulk?” she asks, once her reeling brain finishes comprehending what he’s said. Giant green Hulks and alien invasions. What a bizarro day. “I’m Darcy.”

“ **Darcy** ,” Hulk says, cocking his head, and Darcy should probably be more alarmed at the fact that she finds the action adorable even on an eight-foot-tall green behemoth. He nods, and the moment passes. “ **Soft pretty name Darcy. Hulk see Darcy again.** ”

He doesn’t leave immediately, and Darcy realizes he’s waiting for some sort of response. “Yes,” she says, because _why the hell not_ , “you’ll see me again soon.”

In retrospect, the ‘soon’ may not have been really unnecessary, but the Hulk nods and jumps away onto a passing alien cruiser and starts beating the crap out of its riders, so she figures she did well enough.

There’s not much to do after that but wait for everything to calm down so she can get off the building, and Darcy settles down to do just that. Her ankle is still throbbing, but the Empire State building is being used as a giant lightning rod, and that’s way too cool to not deserve her full attention. Any concerns about her recent interaction with the Not-So-Jolly Green Giant can be put on hold at least until she gets some medical attention. In the meantime, she’s going to watch aliens get blown up by lightning.

This is officially the weirdest Monday ever.


End file.
